Heidi’s voice. I’d know it anywhere.

She’s crying, screaming for help from behind one of these final doors. I race to the one I suspect and send it flying open with a single powerful kick.

A man yelps with terror at my entry, and my eyes fly to the only two figures in the room.

One, my Squirrel, is huddled on the floor, her crimson dress slashed in the back by the cut of a whip. Her blood soaks through the fabric, darkening it. She turns her tear-streaked face towards me and sobs with relief. 

“Rand!”

“Rand?”

My gaze turns to the other figure. A man. The crown of his head gleams beneath a sparse head of wispy blond hair. His cheeks are red, flushed with alcohol. His fancy shirt is unbuttoned to the waist and lightly sprayed with blood.

“Who the hell are you?” he demands belligerently, swaggering towards me, whip in hand. He’s tall for a man, perhaps six foot. But I am a head taller still. “Is this the bastard who’s been bedding you, little slut?”

“Greg Philips?”

My voice fills the room with this simple question, and the man stops just short of me with a scoff of disdain.

“Filthy savage,” he eyes me up and down with a sneer. “If you had even a lick of education you’d know me on sight. There’s not a civilized man in this country that doesn’t know Greg Philips.”

That’s all I needed to know.

My hand descends on his shoulder in a crippling grip, and Philips screams like a woman. He tries to lash out at me with his whip, but I catch it, wrap it around my wrist a few times, and slap him with the handle across the face. His body goes momentarily limp. Then I start to drag him from the room, and the life returns to him.

“What are you doing?!” he shrieks. “Where are you taking me?! Help, someone! Get the sheriff!” 

I don’t stop, but haul him down the stairs and outside, screeching all the way. I throw him into the first tree trunk I see and tear off a thick switch. Then I rip through his shirt to reveal his pale, scrawny back.

“You like to whip defenseless women?” I snarl at him. “Let’s see how many lashings your back can take before you bleed out.”

“Hold it right there!” A voice booms from across the lawn. I look over to see a handful of men fifteen feet away, guns drawn on me. One of them wears the brightly gleaming badge of sheriff.

“Sheriff Barret!” Philips gasps. “Thank God you’ve come! This brute was about to kill me!” he tries to come away from the tree, but I catch him and throw him back against it. He hits with a satisfying thud and an “Oof,” as all the wind gets knocked out of him.

“You, big guy, hands up or I’ll shoot!”

I’m not scared of these men and their little revolvers. Just let them come a few feet closer. I’ll cripple them all for their interference.

Perhaps sensing my thoughts, the Squirrel’s voice rings out next, giving me pause.

“Rand, stop!”

She comes running towards me, gripping my rifle which I seem to have lost track of somewhere along the way. She wears a robe over her tattered gown which hides her grisly wounds.

“You can’t kill him, Rand,” she says to me breathlessly, tears of desperation in her eyes. “He’s the sheriff!”

“Is he?” I sneer down at the one they call Barret. “Then he shouldn’t object to seeing justice done.”

I turn the Squirrel around and lower her robe to show the men her blood streaked back. Barret goes pale at the sight.

“She’s got a hundred more like these,” I say, turning the Squirrel back and covering her, knowing she will feel ashamed though she has no reason to. “And all from this man.”

“The hell’s going on here, Philips?”

“It’s a misunderstanding!” he cries. “You know how things get between a husband and wife, Sheriff. We quarrel sometimes, things get a bit rough. But we always reach an understanding, don’t we, Honey?”

Heidi stares at him coldly.

“These are serious injuries,” says Sheriff Barret. “Was this why she ran away from you?”

“She didn’t run away! She was stolen from me! Kidnapped by this savage!”

“That’s not true!” Heidi cries. “I came to him. Rand sheltered me, protected me when I had no where else to turn.”

“All so you could sleep with him, little slut! There are laws against adultery—I can sue you both!”

“There are also laws against spousal abuse,” I answer calmly, unbothered by his unfounded accusations. “Then, neither law really applies here. Since Heidi is not your wife.”

Philips blinks at me incredulously. “What are you talking about? Of course she is. Ask anyone in town, they’ll tell you.”

“This was an illegal marriage; you have no marriage certificate.”

Everyone stares at me in bewilderment. Even the Squirrel. Philips is the first to speak.

“Idiot! Barbarian woodsman! What do you know? I have the marriage certificate with her signature upstairs in my desk.”

“She couldn’t write.”

Their gazes come back to me.

“I’ve taught her a little, and she can sign her name now. Have her sign and compare it to the signature on that document. I’ll guarantee they do not match.”

“Of course she knew how to write her own signature,” Philips is laughing unnecessarily loud as his whole form is seized by the terror of knowing he’s finally been caught in his deception. “She signed the certificate herself, she practiced for the wedding. Didn’t you, Honey?”

“What wedding?” Heidi is shaking. “There was no wedding. You just pulled me into your bed one day and assaulted me. You locked me in a room and called me your wife. I was your prisoner till I agreed to go along with your charade—for months, I didn’t even see the light of day. You beat me and tortured me, you—”

She breaks off, overcome with emotion. I reach for her, pull her securely under my arm. She leans heavily on me, her body wracked with sobs.

The sheriff is no neophyte. He’s a hardened, middle-aged man who looks like he’s seen some harrowing things in his career. But even he appears to have been shaken by the Squirrel’s account.

Gray faced, he holsters his gun. Those with him do the same.

“Greg Philips, I’m placing you under arrest,” he says, and his deputies move in to take him.

“You can’t arrest me! Do you know who I am? The governor won’t stand for this!”

“Maybe not,” Barret answers grimly. “But we’ll save that conversation for another day. In the meantime, I need you all to come down to the station with me.”

“We’re not going anywhere with you,” I answer simply.

“I need her statement. And I still have half a mind to put you under arrest, too, big guy, so don’t get funny with me.”

“Arrest me for what? I didn’t hurt anyone,” I say, for now leaving out the bit about smacking Philips. “The only thing I broke was the rifle his goon tried to shoot me with. And the laws of trespassing don’t apply in this county when one is retrieving something stolen that belongs to him. At least they didn’t thirteen years ago.”

The sheriff raises his brow. “You seem to know a lot about the law, woodsman.”

“I used to be a lawyer,” I answer simply, and I turn from him. “You and your men were witnesses to Heidi’s injuries and her testimony, that should be enough to hold him for a week or so. You’ll have your statement when her wounds have healed.”

I don’t take the Squirrel straight home, but stop in the Philips house to raid the medicine cabinet. I medicate her wounds and wrap her carefully. She endures the treatment stoically. Neither of us speak a word. I carry her to the stable and set her on one of Philips’ horses.

Then quietly, through the deepening shadows of night, I lead her back up the mountain.

For a long time we continue in silence. Then at last, she breaks it with a single question.

“Were you really a lawyer?”

“No,” I answer as I lead the horse up the trail through the tall spruce trees. “But I was studying for the bar exam… in another life…”